Summary: Set during Succession. Sydney and Sark escape during the trade.

Little
Child Lost

Chapter
One

Escape

It was
sweltering. Deserts tended to be that
way. The heat was so dry; waves of
warmth seemed to be rolling against the bright gold sand. The sun was blaring down on Sark, nearly
blinding him. He'd been cooped up
inside a Plexiglas cage for nearly two years without any hint of sun. Being outside was an adjustment, not that he
was complaining. He'd been stir-crazy
since day one. Another major adjustment
was seeing Sydney again. He wasn't sure
where Sydney had been for the past few years, but he had several thoughts on
it. Not that any of it mattered. In a few short moments, he was going to be
traded to an unknown terrorist organization that most likely wanted him
dead. He was debating at the moment
whether being dead or being in custody was better. He didn't have nearly enough time to ponder that question because
Sydney was telling him he was up. He
started the journey across the desert, almost halfway there when a helicopter
flew from behind the mountains as several policia cars sped down the flat
ground. He glanced between both groups
to see who had betrayed whom.
Unfortunately, neither seemed to be claiming responsibility for the
double cross. Gunfire burst from each
side and Sark threw himself on the ground in one fluid motion. Next to him, the idiot CIA agent, collapsed,
his hands covering his head. Sark knew
that this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. He could be completely free from all of them. Sark crawled slowly towards the CIA caravan,
figuring it would be easier to steal a car from the agents then it would be
from The Covenant. Sydney, the miracle
woman, stood behind a door, firing her rifle from across the desert. She looked beautiful amidst all the
glittering granules and dark vehicles, so lost and so beautiful. He jerked her behind one of the vans, knocking
the gun down from her grasp. She seemed
surprised to see him back on their side instead of in the center of the
desert. That was good, because that
meant most of the other agents wouldn't have noticed.

"Sark!"

"I'm getting out of here, Sydney. I think you should come with me."

"What? You
think I'm going to let you waltz out of here…"

"I don't think you have much of a choice. Sydney, I have contacts the CIA and your
father don't have. Come with me and
we'll find out where you've been."

"No. Absolutely
not. You're not going anywhere,
either."

Sark watched her skeptically, then scanned the desert for
the easiest escape route.

"I will be leaving in ten seconds. My offer to help you discover your past will
be off the table then. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6,
5, 4, 3…"

Indecision marred Sydney's delicate features. Sydney grabbed her gun from his hold and
slid into the open door of one SUV. He
ran to the other side, where Agent Weiss was yelling into his communication
link. Sark kicked Weiss in the stomach
and hit him in the back of the head. He
grabbed up the machine gun from Weiss's unconscious grip before jumping into
the SUV. He peeled away from the bloody
scene behind him, Sydney sulking in the back seat of the car.

They'd
entered a tiny town after driving south for nearly an hour. Sark had looped around; on the off chance
that someone was following them. They
would construe he'd gone north instead and try to cut him off there. Sydney hadn't spoken since they'd driven off
into the proverbial sunset and it worried him.
Sydney wasn't exactly the silent type, at least not the Sydney he used
to know so well. He glanced to the back
seat, almost to assure himself of her presence. She was staring out the tinted window at the cacti flying by.

"Sydney, I think we need to find new
transportation. It's not exactly
ingenious to be traveling around in a stolen CIA vehicle when they're trying to
track us."

Sydney seemed to snap out of it. Sark pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the
engine. He began to massage his wrists,
where his handcuffs had left red rims around them. Sark unlocked the doors and stretched. Sydney followed his actions and stood there, staring at him. She seemed to just realize she'd run off
with Mr. Sark, leaving the CIA and everything she used to know behind.

"Why did I come with you, Sark?" She sounded almost shell shocked and Sark
wondered if he would be able to help her.
For some reason, he wanted to.
She'd locked him up for two years and he wanted to help her. He was an assassin, a spy, a terrorist and
he wanted to help a CIA agent.
Figures.

"You want to know what happened to you and I will help
you find it."
"How do I know you really well?
This could be an elaborate ruse to get me away from the CIA to kill me."

"You know I will.
You have to trust me."

Sydney snorted in disgust.
"Trust you? We're both
fugitives now! There's no reason for me
to trust you. There's no reason for me
to trust anyone. I trusted Vaughn and
look where that got me. Sloane, Francie,
Noah, Danny, Dixon…"

Sydney trailed off, withdrawing back inside herself. Sark couldn't let that happen. If he wanted to help Sydney, she had to
reach her full potential, and feeling sorry for herself was not it.

"Sydney, you can trust me. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it long ago. You know that."

Sydney nodded a bit, pushing a stray piece of hair back into
her braid. Sark sighed as he looked for
any sign of a decent car to swipe. Of
course, being a little town in Mexico, they didn't really have anything
suitable to him. He started to walk.

"Sark, where are we going?"

"To…"

"Wait!" He
stopped at her sudden outburst and turned to look at her. Sydney pulled off a comm. link from her ear,
realizing she still had it. She dropped
it on the ground and stomped on it, breaking the metal into tiny bits. Sydney realized that she'd just severed all
ties with the CIA. Her only affiliation
now was Sark.

"We're going to Moscow."

"Why Moscow?"

"I have a contact there."

"Who?"

"You're inquisitive all of a sudden. We traveled for an hour and you didn't say a
word."

Sydney shrugged.
Sark grinned boyishly as he found what he was searching for, a red
Mercedes. He bent down, picking it open
without setting the alarm off. He still
had it. Sydney slid in first and Sark started the ignition. They drove on south, knowing soon they'd
have to stop for the night. It was
getting late.

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